Define Real
by Hughnatic
Summary: A little weird, but DeckerStar-tastic.
1. Chapter 1

"Look, here she is!" declared Chloe, triumphantly displaying the open program with her finger pointed to the name _Beatrice Espinoza_.

"Do you see her?" asked Dan, scanning the football field.

"I can't tell one from the other under those ridiculous mortarboards," replied Lucifer, straining to distinguish Trixie from the six hundred-strong sea of caps and gowns that filled the football field. He had his phone poised to take a picture of her, and when he conceded to himself that he wouldn't be able to identify her from their seats in the bleachers, he grumpily started taking photos of the crowd that he consoled himself he could crop later.

"She'll be with the E's," Chloe's mother needlessly pointed out.

"Yeah, well, better look at her while you can for the next three months since that's the last we'll ever see of her."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Maze, she's going to UCLA. She'll be a half hour away. She's coming home for my birthday two weeks after she starts school, it's not like we'll never see her again."

"Whatever," replied Maze, unappeased.

"Much as it pains me to say it, I have to agree with Maze on this one," Lucifer chimed in. "Do you even know what those college students get up to? Just the thought of her crammed into one of those dingy little slums they call 'dormitories' teeming with little miscreants just waiting to drag her into a life of drunkenness and debauchery—and have you heard of something called 'tailgating'? I dread to think what that could be."

"Lucifer, we've talked about this," Chloe responded. "She wants the college experience. And besides, Trixie is a smart girl."

"Darling, if you knew how many 'smart girls' I—well, never mind."

"Lucifer, gross," Chloe admonished at the same time Dan cringed and said, "Come on, man!"

"I'm just saying," continued Lucifer, "I'd feel much better if she just stayed with us for another year. Or two." _Or ten_, he muttered to himself.

Charlotte leaned over Dan to whisper loudly, "You know, some people might actually want to hear the valedictorian's speech."

/ / / / / / / / / / / / /

"Paul Enfield… Daniel Epstein… Beatrice Espinoza…"

Charlotte, Chloe, and Maze erupted in cheers while Dan and Lucifer were practically on top of one another with their camera phones, trying to get the best shot.

"Trix, look up here! TRIX!" cried Dan, waving his arms in between shots.

"Child! Child, look at me!" called Lucifer. "She's not looking," he complained to Chloe. Slightly crestfallen, he took half a dozen pictures of Trixie receiving her diploma, then continued to snap photos as she marched back to her seat.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"I'm so proud of you, Monkey!" Chloe said, hugging Trixie. She pulled back and looked at her daughter's beaming face. In it, she could see the tiny newborn baby with the full head of hair. The energetic six-year-old who lived for chocolate cake. The precocious eight-year-old who snuck out to Lux using her mother's Uber account. The fourteen-year-old at her first homecoming. She saw in that face her own father, her mother, her first date with Dan, the moment she found out she was pregnant. She saw the promise of an amazing future. "I just love you so, so much."

"I love you too, Mom," Trixie said, and pulled Chloe into a hug.

"All right, my turn," said Dan, coming up behind Chloe. He wrapped his arms around Trixie, and Chloe walked back to Lucifer, who put his arm around her. Smiling, but with tears standing in her eyes, she looked up at Lucifer, who smiled down on her. He gave her a kiss, and then leaned his head on top of hers, squeezing her to him.

"Excuse me, would you mind taking a photo of us?" Chloe's mom asked of what appeared to be a fellow grandparent.

"Uh, sure—wait, are you Penelope Decker?"

"In the flesh!" she responded with a flourish.

"Wow, I'll be damned!" He grabbed his little graduate and said, "Honey! Look, it's the Vampire Queen!" The 18-year-old looked blankly at Penelope, the dated pop culture reference clearly lost on her. "Ms. Decker, would you take a picture with Emily here?"

"Of course!" She put her arm around the bemused teenager and flashed her hundred-megawatt smile as her grandfather took several pictures.

"Thank you so much, it was great meeting you, I'm such a fan!"

"Well, thank you so much! And now, would you take one of us?" she reminded him.

"Oh, yes, ha! Sorry about that."

"No worries at all. Everyone, get together!" she called out to her party. "That's it, squeeze in, everybody!"

The seven of them—Chloe, Lucifer, Trixie, Dan, Charlotte, Maze, and Penelope—all huddled together to fit in the frame. Chloe was overwhelmed with love and a sense of belonging. She was as happy as she had ever been in her life.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"Hey, any room for me?" called a voice behind them.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"Dad, you made it!" Chloe exclaimed. "Quick, get in the picture!"

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /


	2. Chapter 2

"You deserve someone… better. Because you, Detective, are selfless to a nauseating degree. You always put your daughter first, even though the ungrateful urchin does nothing to contribute to the rent, so you deserve someone worthy of that grace. Someone who knows that every crime scene breaks your heart even though you'd never admit it. Someone who actually appreciates your impossibly boring middle name, Jane. More importantly, Detective, you deserve someone as good as you. Because… well, you're special. And I'm… I'm not worth it."

Lucifer turned his gaze to the sea, bereft, but also comforted. There was only one thing that he wanted more than Chloe, and that was Chloe's happiness. He had wanted so much for the two to be compatible, but the realization that it was one or the other gave him at least a peaceful sense of permanence. Without him, Chloe would be happy. And that is what he truly desired.

Chloe had never felt more seen, nor had she ever seen Lucifer with such clarity. While he was making peace with a future wherein he would be able to watch her flourish, albeit from the outside, he was unaware that his thoughts reflected back to her, erasing all doubt.

"Yeah," she said with a smirk. "You're probably right." She drew herself up toward him, and before he knew where he was, he found that his lips were on hers and the whole world had shifted.

Gone was the serenity that accompanied his acquiescence. What he saw as he stared into her eyes did buoy hope, but also uncertainty, insecurity. Hadn't he just told her he wasn't worthy of her? Was he wrong to yield to the powerful force that was drawing his lips back toward hers?

"Detective—" he whispered huskily. _This is dangerous. I am dangerous._ But the words never came out. Chloe's eyes were clear as the sky, unmuddled by indecision or doubt. Although he seldom went against his instincts, he somehow knew that in that moment that she knew more than he did, and he submitted.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Another chaste kiss. This wasn't about lust; it was about openness and connection and trust. It was a gift and a promise. And when it ended, they found themselves knitted together forever.

/ / / / / / / / /

The wind had picked up, and Chloe shivered. Lucifer's lips lifted into the tiniest of smiles, and he stroked her cheek with his hand. His eyes, soft and peaceful, locked with Chloe's as he took a small step back, and with a slight roll of his shoulders, a pair of majestic wings unfurled behind him. Chloe's breath caught at the beauty of what she saw in front of her. The feathers were pure white, but bathed in the pink-orange glow of sunset. And somehow, she wasn't scared or even surprised. / It was a part of him, of course it was. She stepped into his open arms and nestled against his chest. He gathered her in his arms, leaned his cheek against her head, and folded his wings over their joined bodies. She was happy as she'd ever been in her life.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /


	3. Chapter 3

At first, she just buried her head deeper into the pillow and burrowed into the soft mattress, but the strains of Schumann floating in from the piano in the living room were enough to lure her out of bed. Partly because she loved to listen to classical music in the mornings as she drank her coffee, and partially because she knew that he went straight from bed to the piano in the mornings, and would still be shirtless and unkempt after his night's sleep. Ever since she and Lucifer started living together, waking up each morning was one of the great joys of her life. Sometimes she would wake up first, and would spend the early morning nestled against him, running her fingers up and down his arms as he snored lightly. But more often, she would wake to the smell of coffee and the delicate notes of Brahms or Liszt or Faure. She heaved a sigh and opened her eyes. She slid her feet into her slippers and threw on a robe and made her way out into the living room.

Like usual, he sat at the piano, no shirt, messy hair, and scruffy face. He had a glass of whisky on the piano in front of him, but there was a carafe of coffee waiting for Chloe on the bar. Lucifer smiled a good morning to her without stopping his song. She walked up behind him and kissed him on the back, rubbed his back and shoulders affectionately, then made her way to the bar to pour herself a cup of coffee. She returned with it and sat next to him on the piano bench, and he carried on playing as he kissed her neck. She was as happy as she had ever been in her life.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"Mmmm," she hummed, and took a sip of / /_**Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!**_/ / coffee.

She laid on the couch scrolling through her phone for a few minutes, then picked up her book from the coffee table and started reading.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"Everything okay?" he asked, to her confusion.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I must have… fallen asleep for a second or something."

"Mmm," he replied, continuing to stroke her hair, her head in his lap.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"Wait," she said, sitting up. She was as happy as she had ever been in her life.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"Darling?"

She was as happy as she had ever been in her life.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"I'm just—hang on, what is this?"

"Chloe, what's wrong?" asked a visibly concerned Lucifer.

"Wait, this isn't / /_**Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!**_/ / right." She was as happy as she had ever been in her life.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Chloe stood up, agitated, and started pacing.

"Chloe, you're making me nervous," Lucifer said, walking over to her and stilling her by placing his hands on either side of her shoulders. "Now, just calm down. What is it? Tell me."

"I…" she had no idea what was wrong. It was as though she'd had an out of body experience. "Nothing is wrong, I have no idea what that was." She shrugged it off with a laugh and Lucifer wrapped her in his arms. She was as happy as she had ever been in her / /_**Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!**_/ / life.

"Wait, no! No no no no!" The world before her ripped apart like paper, revealing a very different scene. She was looking through her own eyes, but it wasn't her. A man, trembling, pointing a gun at her. She heard herself say, in a steady and careful voice, "It's not worth throwing your own life away. Now put the gun down."

He had just started to lower his arms when a look of clarity overtook his features. His head snapped up, he squared himself, held up the gun, and _**Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!**_

Blood filled her mouth. She tried to speak, but it was just a gurgle. She couldn't breathe. And then there was darkness.~~~~~

Once more, she found herself in Lucifer's penthouse, in his arms, as happy as she had ever been. But now the feeling of absolute bliss was heavy, oppressive, thick as the blood that had drowned her. She stood frozen to the spot, her eyes wide, her entire body shaking. "It's not real. It's not real."

Lucifer laughed an easy laugh and stroked her hair. "Darling, of course this is real. What are you saying?"

"No, no, no," she insisted, her anxiety growing with each word. "It's not real!" she screamed. "Let me out of here! I need to get out of here!" She pulled away from Lucifer and looked frantically around the penthouse, searching for an escape.

She screamed. While cheery sunlight still streamed into the apartment through the large windows of the balcony, the sky, which had been clear and blue moments ago, was a roiling grey void. She started running toward it.

"Chloe, NO!" screamed Lucifer as he tried to stop her.

But he was too late. She had thrown herself off of the balcony.


	4. Chapter 4

Chloe was falling fast, yet even as she braced herself for the impact of hitting the ground at terminal velocity, she felt deliciously uncaged. The abject terror, harrowing as it was, washed off the grime of whatever saccharine, whitewashed, lying existence she left behind.

All around her was nothingness. She was falling and falling with no ground in sight—indeed, with no anything in sight. No ground, no sky; no up, no down; not even light or dark. There was just the falling. She began to fear that this was her new eternity, just falling from nothing to nothing in a void, when all of a sudden, the feeling of falling was replaced with the far more sinister sensation of being _pulled_. She began flailing her limbs, trying desperately to swim or climb or run against the force that was drawing her faster and faster into an ever-hotter atmosphere, but it was futile to try to resist. As she tore through the air—such as it was—she began to make out a shadowy landscape of stone spikes and crags, toward which she was hurtling. The threat of collision or impalement imminent, she began screaming, her throat burnt and blistering from inhaling the scorching heat. All at once, she heard another scream, a ripping, gutting roar racing toward her, and in a flash, the source of the scream swooped toward her and she found herself roughly scooped up, and then arcing upwards, and finally soaring purposefully in a pair of sure arms.

Chloe blindly clutched herself to her rescuer, if that's what it was, gripping its neck, pulling her face into its chest. After a few moments, her brain started to clear enough for her to realize that she needed to try to figure out where she was, what or who was carrying her, and how to devise an escape plan. And so, she summoned the courage to view the owner of the arms that held her so strong. She lifted her eyes and what she saw induced hoarse, painful, convulsing sobs. Face stormy, jaw clenched, eyes almost maniacally focused ahead of him, it was none other than Lucifer who was conveying her to safety. Her shaking hands frenziedly grasped at his face, his neck, his chest. His wings flattened and they zoomed through a window and into a chamber all reds and golds, adorned with Turkish carpets, shelves of antique books and scrolls, enormous paintings by Old Masters, bizarre candlelight chandeliers suspended from the ceiling—high as a cathedral—casting twitching shadows on the walls, tables and shelves cluttered with bejeweled chalices, signets, busts, obelisks and other curiosities, all illuminated by a raging fire in a fireplace so large it could be its own bedroom, which was bordered by mosaics depicting printers and scribes from the Middle Ages. Lucifer alit, folded his wings, and carried her toward the damask-curtained four poster bed in the middle of the room, where he sat with her curled in his lap.

"Lucifer, it wasn't real, it wasn't real!" she kept rasping out, looking up at him plaintively and clutching at his shirt. "It wasn't real!"

It was clear from each wincing breath that speaking was terribly painful for her. "Shh, shh, don't talk," he urged. His voice was gentle, but he couldn't hide the look of bewildered horror on his face, or the pounding of his heart in his chest. When Chloe started to still, Lucifer examined her face, and then ran his hand from her cheek down the column of her throat; the pain faded away in the wake of his touch. She cleared her throat to test her voice. It was healed.

"Lucifer?" she whispered, her eyes wide. Gathered enough now to sit up on her own, she slid off of Lucifer's lap so that she was now sitting next to him on the bed.

"Chloe," Lucifer uttered in amazement. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand and was surprised anew to find that she was indeed made of flesh and bone, not a vision or a delusion. "H-how is this possible? Why are you here?"

"I—" she stammered, her searching eyes focused into the middle-distance, as though the answer would appear in the air.

"Chloe," Lucifer said firmly. "Do you know where you are?"

She looked around. "Your bedroom?" she guessed.

His eyes smoldered with a quiet rage. He managed to growl out, "You're somewhere—" his voice caught. "Somewhere you're not supposed to be. Somewhere you don't belong."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to—I mean, I didn't come here on purpose. If you show me the way out, I can go."

"Bloody hell, Chloe, I didn't mean that you're intruding. It's just that… well, you're supposed to be in Heaven."

"Heaven?" Chloe exclaimed. "Wait, so…" _**Bang! Bang-bang! Bang! **_"So…I'm dead?"

Lucifer exhaled, and he took her hand in both of his. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Chloe gasped, and tears pricked at her eyes. "Trixie!" One immediate thought came to her mind: _I have failed my daughter_. She tried to figure out what had happened—how had she died? How old was Trixie? How long ago did this happen? She had so many disjointed fragments of memories, and she didn't know how to begin sorting the truth from the lie.

/ / / / / /""Dad, you made it!"/ / /

_** Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!**_

/ / /And when it ended, they found themselves knitted together forever./ /

/ / / / / /She was as happy as she had ever been in her life./ / / / / / /

She pounded her fists on her head as though she were trying to knock out all of the fake memories to reveal what truly happened.

"Chloe!" cried Lucifer in alarm. "Chloe, stop it!" He grasped her wrists painfully and held them tight in his hands.

"UGH" she growled. "I've gone crazy, I don't even know what's _real!_"

"Chloe, Chloe come here." Lucifer gathered her to his chest and swaddled her with his arms, rocking gently. "You're not crazy, of course you're not. This was never supposed to happen."

After a few moments, when her mind began to clear, Chloe stated, "I was shot."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Two years ago."

"So, Trixie's… fifteen now?"

"Yes."

"How is she?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Lucifer sighed. "She's… well, she's wonderful."

"Really?" Chloe sobbed out.

He smiled gently. "Really. She's thriving. But… well, she did lose her mother."

Chloe nodded through her tears. "Right. Right, of course. But she's—she's happy? And, you know, she's"—her voice thickened—"she's got a good life?"

"She does. Truly."

"So, can you see her, or…?"

"Amenadiel sees her often."

"So, there's no way I can see her?"

"I'm sorry, Chloe, I'm afraid there isn't."

While she had hoped that Lucifer had some sort of crystal ball through which she could catch a glimpse of her 15-year-old daughter, the thought of Amenadiel watching over Trixie was immensely comforting to Chloe. If she couldn't be in her daughter's life, at least she had a guardian angel looking after her.

There were a million questions she wanted to ask. Did she still love science? Was she in the choir? Did she get her braces off? Was she still friends with Olivia? Was she still confident? Did she blame Chloe for abandoning her? How did she remember her? How did she respond to the loss? Did she let people see her cry?

She raised her eyes and instantly found herself ensnared in Lucifer's penetrating stare. "Chloe," he said. "I need you to tell me how you got here."

The anxiety began to creep up her throat when she thought about where she'd come from, and how she left. She took her time to gather her words.

"I was in this place… at least, I think it was a place. Or more of a, a _space_, you know—almost like a space in my mind? I don't know how to describe it." Lucifer's sober expression told her that he knew exactly what she meant. She continued, "And there was no time, it was just… just feeling. And it was perfect—but more than perfect, it was like I was just filled with this _light_—like, filled to the brim—and nothing ever happened that I didn't want to happen, and what did happen was part of this light and that's just what everything was and it was _amazing_. And everyone was there, even people I'd lost, like…" at this point, tears were falling down her face, "like my dad, and you. It was just… bliss." She cleared her throat. "But then sometimes things would just shake or flash and even though everything was perfect, it was also wrong somehow." Now, Lucifer's brow furrowed. "And when I started to feel like that, it kept happening, but I couldn't control it. Even though I knew it was wrong, I kept getting dropped back into the perfect place, and I couldn't get out. And then it would happen again and I realized that I was trapped, and that it wasn't perfect because it was all an illusion. How could something be good if it's a lie? It felt very, very wrong, and so then, anytime that shake would come, I would try to hang onto it and I got closer and closer, but every time I got pulled back. But then I actually had a vision—now I know it was a memory—and that gave me something to hold onto, and I could see where the perfect space ended and so I jumped out. And then I was falling, and then you caught me, and that's what happened."

"But, Chloe," Lucifer said. "You were in Heaven."

She nodded sadly. "I realize that now."

"I just don't understand," he said, running his hands up her arms, her shoulders, her neck. He placed his hand flat on her chest. "How is this possible? You have a heartbeat, you're breathing, this is not just your soul, I mean, this—" he pressed his hand to her cheek and looked deep into her eyes—"this is _you_." Eyes shining with tears, Chloe placed her hand on top of his, and nuzzled her cheek into his palm. He became agitated, every breath, every word, came out in dry sobs—"Chloe! Chloe I thought I'd never see you again!" He put his arms around her and clasped her to him, and greedily took her lips in his.


	5. Chapter 5

When the shock wore off and the realization hit Lucifer that he had Chloe, bodily, in front of him, his heart cracked open and out burst all of the pent-up emotion that had accumulated inside of him ever since the day he returned to Hell. The instant his mind came into focus, his only thought was to kiss her and hold her while he had her; she'd already been taken from him in so many ways that he felt she might vanish at any moment. He needed to feel her lips on his, her hair beneath his hands, her breath in his ear. His kiss was urgent, possessive, tinged with desperation. Chloe was just glad to be in his embrace, to feel his stubbled face and to clasp his muscled arms. He broke their kiss and pressed his cheek to hers, holding her tightly against him and repeating, "Can this be real? You're real, aren't you? You're real, you're real. Are you real?"

She nodded against him, and clutched him reassuringly. "This is real, I know it. It has to be."

He kissed her again, and explored the hard peaks and soft depressions of her face with his hands, seeking texture, detail, anything he could use as evidence that she truly was flesh and bone in his arms. Again, he circled his arms around her, holding her tight. He leaned his head against hers and looked up, pleading, "Please, please, don't take her from me again. Please, I beg of you."

Something inside Lucifer had died a violent death on the night he returned to Hell, something he had come to refer to in his mind as the Softness. It was the part of him that had grown throughout his partnership with Chloe. The part that made him care, that allowed him to take risks and make sacrifices and challenge his principles. Whatever it was, it was ripped open and poured out the moment he tore himself from Earth. From Chloe. Not that it mattered much; he was better off without it in Hell. Did he want it back? He wanted a lot of things. But we don't always have a choice, do we? We don't ever have a choice, do we?

By the time Amenadiel arrived in Hell to deliver the news that Chloe had died, any remnants of the Softness had long since rotted and calcified into an emotional shield that protected him from grief. His reaction was concentrated in anger and loathing.

_Dad, You absolute BASTARD for taking her life in that way._

_Lucifer, you useless SHIT for leaving her._

_Dad, You cruel MONSTER for taking her away from her child._

_Lucifer, you miserable FAILURE for allowing this to happen._

_Father, You gave her to me and then You took her away forever. How could You do that? Am I not still Your son? I rejected You, and this is Your revenge? You went out of Your way to create something that would mean more to me than the world, only to take her away to the one place I'm forbidden to go. No one could ever accuse You of lacking a sense of irony, You twisted fuck._

He had to give it to his Father. The scheme was flawlessly executed. Lucifer thought his Father had reached the height of cruelty when He let him think that he'd found love for the first time—and on his own terms—when in reality He'd been pulling the strings from the start. But it turned out that that episode was merely setting the stage for events to follow. Things took a turn for the dramatic with the fulfillment of a prophecy that stated that evil would be released when the Devil walked the earth and found his first love—in which He again built up and then shattered the illusion of free will, this time parting the two lovers in grand fashion. While this had all the trappings of a grand finale, it merely lured him once again into a false sense of security. Lucifer had thought that this game had finally ended in his defeat when he and Chloe were parted, until Amenadiel bore the news that Chloe had been shot and killed on the job. The job that he had been a part of—that had brought him and Chloe together. If he had been there, would he have been able to save her? He should have been there. He couldn't be there. He was useless. And now she was gone—from her family, her job, her friends. And from Lucifer forever. _Well played, Dad._

And that was that. Or so he thought. Until he saw in the distance a flailing object plummeting straight toward a stone spire. Instinctually, he knew exactly what—or rather, who—the object was the instant it caught his eye. With a roar, he rocketed towards Chloe, as fast as his wings could take him—she had mere seconds before her body shattered against the spike. Would this game never end? Was he a fool to even hold out hope? Is that just what his Father wanted?

With that thought, he extricated himself from Chloe's arms and walked away from her, leaving her alone on the bed. He stood with his back to her, one hand in his pocket and the other massaging his forehead. He said nothing.

"Lucifer?" Chloe whispered. He just shook his head, still facing away from her. She stood up and walked to him, and spread her hands across his back and down his shoulders. He tensed, and she dropped her hands. "What is it?"

"I—" he began, but his voice broke. "I don't know how I… how I can bear… to be parted from you again," he choked out.

Her eyes instantly overflowed with tears. "Parted? But, Lucifer, we're together now. I could just stay here—with you."

"Chloe, I can't, I can't let you stay here."

"But why?"

"You don't belong here." He turned to face her. "Don't you see? You led a good life, you do not deserve to spend eternity in endless torment!"

"But… but there's nowhere else for me to go."

"Chloe, you know that's not true," he said, regretfully.

Her entire body started shaking with panic, and she grabbed his forearm, pleading, "Please don't make me go back!"

"Chloe," he began, gently removing his arm from her grasp, but she clutched onto him for dear life and sank to her knees, looking up at him tearfully.

"Please, you don't understand! I can't go back! Please, please, don't make me," she begged.

Lucifer guided her up to a standing position. "I can't make you do anything, but just think about what you're asking!"

Still trembling, Chloe replied, "I know what I'm asking. I can't go back to that place when it's a lie, it was fake and terrifying, and I think… I think it was driving me crazy." She shuddered. "I'm telling you, I don't belong there, I don't!"

Lucifer groaned, pained. He could see no answer, no path to happiness for his dearest love. After all, what do you do with someone for whom Heaven is hell?


	6. Chapter 6

Lucifer took Chloe's trembling hands in his and assured her that he believed her, and promised that there would be no more talk of sending her to Heaven. He turned away from her and began pacing around the great room, deep in thought. Chloe did nothing, she just stood and watched anxiously. After a few moments, he looked at her quizzically and stopped walking. "Are you, uh, hungry or tired or anything?" She shook her head. "Hmm," he murmured, and resumed his pacing. She narrowed her eyes.

"What's 'hmm'?" she asked.

Again, he stopped. "Hmm?"

"Yeah, what's 'hmm'?"

"Detective, what on earth are you talking about?" Lucifer answered uncomfortably.

"Hey, don't 'detective' me," she said, pointing an accusatory finger. "You know what I'm talking about. You asked me if I'm hungry or tired, I said no, and you said, 'hmm,' like that was important or something. Now tell me—what did you mean by 'hmm'?"

"Well, it's just that, since you are a human—not a soul or a celestial—it seems odd that you don't seem to have human needs. It's almost like…"

"Like what?"

"Well, I don't know," he cautioned. "As far as I can tell, this is all completely unprecedented—and knowing my father, I have little doubt of that. But perhaps… you were made to be able to adapt to some sort of… post-life existence."

Chloe's head was swimming. "Okay, hang on, wait. So, first question, there is no food or sleeping here?"

"Well, it's not quite as simple as that. Food and sleep are possible, but we don't have a _need_ for them. As a result, they're much less pleasurable here than they are on Earth."

"But I don't understand, I've seen you go without sleep. You were a mess. How can you say you don't need sleep?"

"That was on Earth," he reminded her gently. "It's different in the afterlife."

"But… I ate and slept in Heaven…."

"Yes, but that wasn't real, was it?"

The thought sent shivers down her spine. "Right. Well, what does it all mean?"

"Chloe, I don't know, I'm sorry, I just don't know," replied Lucifer tetchily. She bristled and he immediately regretted his sharp tone. He walked over to her and gently placed his hand on her cheek, and bent down to press his lips against her forehead. "I am sorry, really," he said, looking ruefully into her eyes. "I know you want me to have the answers, but I just don't."

As she looked into his eyes, lost and mournful, the reality of her situation began to dawn on her. What had initially felt like a relief, even a wish fulfilled—albeit with a heavy price—now felt like a gaping maw before her. Yes, she'd escaped from that cloyingly sweet nightmare, but what if this was just another prison? If Earth was off-limits and Heaven was not an option, was Hell her only choice? Her eyes flicked from Lucifer's gaze to the enormous window behind him. She walked past him slowly and stood looking out of the window. She surveyed the craggy grey monochrome that stretched as far as the eye could see and farther. A miasma of sulfurous furnace-fire heat breezed around her, and the constant dull rumble separated itself into a cacophony of spitting jets of blue-hot fire, disintegrating pebbles of calcified ash, the jangling and clattering and pounding of chains and locked doors, and the shrieks and moans and wails of souls eternally tortured. Looming above all of this misery was a miles-high throne of scorched stone, accessible only by flight.

"Amenadiel can take you back to Heaven," came Lucifer's gentle voice from behind her. She showed no signs of hearing him. She continued to stare, glassy-eyed, at the world below. He gingerly stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which, to his surprise, was abruptly shrugged off.

Chloe spun to face him. "How many _fucking_ times, Lucifer? I tell you, I am _not_ going back." Her eyes flamed with conviction. "I'm not going anywhere!"

All at once, a violent quake erupted that threw them both to the ground. The entire kingdom roared with crumbling stone and there was a thunderous _CRACK_ as a giant fissure tore through the desiccated ground below. Items fell of shelves and tables, fractures spidered out across the stone walls and floor. The two of them crawled toward one another, their arms outstretched, grunting with exertion as they fought against the force of the tremors, desperately trying to reach one another. With a feral groan, Lucifer thrust forward and caught Chloe's hand, and they used the leverage to pull themselves towards each other and clamp together in a tight embrace. Lucifer rolled on top of Chloe to shield her from the debris that rained around them, and Chloe buried her face in his neck, their hot breaths pulsing in each other's ears. A few moments later, the deafening roar began to subside and the vibrations ebbed as the earth settled into an eerie stillness. The two of them remained locked together—half expecting the world to fall apart around them—until their pounding hearts and heaving breaths slowly calmed, and the silken whisper of Chloe's eyelashes brushing Lucifer's neck when she blinked was the only thing that broke the silence, at which point Lucifer lifted his head enough to look at Chloe's face, and saw his bewilderment reflected in her eyes. They gingerly sat up, stretching their tense muscles. After cursory self-assessments satisfied them that they were uninjured, they surveyed the damage to the room. Many of the stones that made up the wall of the tower now sported jagged cracks and matte patches where the top layer of stone had broken off, exposing the raw underlayer. But the damage was merely cosmetic, the tower was structurally sound. The ground was littered with objets d'art that had been thrown off their shelves during the quake. Chloe and Lucifer picked their way through the clutter to find that most survived the fall thanks to the plush Turkish carpets, with the exception of a couple of clay pots, an ancient ceramic vase, and a marble bust where the top third of the face had cleaved off. Chloe knelt beside the bust and picked up the heavy chunk that had fallen off. The break had been clean, and the smooth plane of marble was facing up. She turned it over to reveal a Roman nose with the tip chipped off, and two hollow eyes that glared at her from underneath a heavy brow. She looked at Lucifer ruefully. He shrugged.

"To be honest, it wasn't Michelangelo's best," he said drily.

Chloe chuckled, but just as she started to relax, something in her peripheral vision caught her attention and knotted her stomach. Her eyes widened and she turned to face the window. "Lucifer," she whispered.

Lucifer followed her gaze and what he saw made his jaw drop.

The dazed pair slowly approached the window.

Within the haze of dust that permeated the atmosphere towered not one, but _two_, blackened stone thrones, looming side by side, miles above the cracked and cratered landscape.

Lucifer took Chloe's hand tightly in his, and the two of them stood side by side, surveying their kingdom, each with their wings unfurled.


End file.
